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volume 1. 1 & jfaroUg Jlctosiiapcv : Druotctr to ftlterature, aarimlture, fUccnatUca, Education, Jfortifln aw*r Domestic K-utelUsence, &t. j number 47.
BY C. R. HANLEITER.
IP © E ¥ IS Y
“ Mach yet remains unsung
For (lie “ Southern Miscellany.”
MISANTROPY.
Soft is the breeze that murmurs now
Amid yon leafless prove,
And hushed the toothing, plaintive song
Wailed by the tnatelcss dove.
Ali nden calm broods o’er the earth
While sinks the duy god to his rest;
And gathering darkness now invites
The laborer to his short repast.
“Ait such a time, at such on hour”
What ill disturbs the mind ?
Ask him hose withered form denotes
A stranger to his kind.
February 0, 18)3. FINGAL.
®IEiL IE ©T H © TALI@ a
THE BRACILIAN BRIDE.
Among the nobles vvbo suffered most from
the invasion of Portugal, and who followed
John VI. across the Atlantic, in search of a
safer home in another hemisphere, was the
Marquess do Gonsalva. He had married a
yoimg and lovely woman to whom he was
tenderly attached. She suffered much at
the separation from her home and family,
and her health failed under the fatigue and
privation of the voyage: she had scarcely
reached Brazil, ere she diet! in giving birth
to a son.
The Marquess remained a widower, de
voting himself to the care of his child, and
the reparation of his ruined fortune.
Alonzo was a fine generous-spirited hoy,
grateful atul affectionate in his disposition,
and very handsome in his person : his clear
dark complexion, laughing eyes, and white
teeth, were united to a form remarkable for
its just proportion and natural gtace. It
was on the subject of his education that his
father felt most severely the change of his
circumstances ; lie could not afford to send
him to Europe, hut all the scanty means that
Rio de Janeiro supplied, were put in requi
sition, and in every respect made the most
of.
“ What a pity it is,” thought the good
Marquess, “ that my hoy, who is beyond all
doubt the finest and most talented boy in
the country, should lose any advantage that
money couid procure. Money, money, where
are you to he had I” cried the father, im
patiently pacing the room : lie suddenly
stopped, and appeared for a full half hour
wrapped in thought; then, starting from his
reverie, ordered his horse, rode in great
haste to the convent of , had a long con
ference with his sister the Abbess, returned
home, declined an invitation to a hall, and
wrote letters the remainder of the evening.
A large and important looking packet
was addressed to a Portuguese merchant,
well known as a man of great wealth, at St.
Paul’s. About the time an answer might
be expected, the Marquess became anxious
and impuiienl; it anived at length ; Alonzo
took it to his father, who shut himself up in
his room to read it.
Presently, Alonzo was called: “ My boy,”
said the Marquess, rubbing his hands in
great glee ; “how would you like to be mar
ried?” Alonzo was just tured seventeen,
and therefore answered without a moment’s
hesitation, “ Very much indeed, sir !”—and
ns he spoke, the bright eyes of Donna Clara,
the little peeping foot of Donna Julia, and
the seperate perfections of half a dozen other
Donnas, glanced in delightful confusion a
cross his mind. “ Then married you shall
be,” replied his father; “sit down, my son,
I have an important communication to make.
I need not inform you that we have lost al
most the whole of our property, with but
very little hope of regaining :t; in fact we
are eery poor. I wish you to goto Europe,
and for the next few years to have every ad
vantage that travel, study, and an introduc
tion to the first society can give : I wish you,
in short, to take your station in the world,
—that station for which your birth and tal
ent so eminently fit you : but this wish can
not bo accomplished without money; and
money, as we are situated, cannot be pro
cured, except by—marriage.” A pause :
the blood receded from the cheek of Alonzo,
but bowing his head, he replied, “ I under
stand you sir.” The Marquess proceeded:
Senhor Josef Mendez owes rise in life to
my father, and much also to me: he is, as
you well know, considered the richest indi
vidual in Brazil: he has only one child, a
daughter, the sole inheritor of his wealth.—
1 have proposed a marriage between you
and her, frankly offering the fair barter of
rank on one 6ide for wealth on the other. I
believed it to he the secret wish of his heart
that his daughter should be ennobled by
marriage ; gratitude unites with pride, and
he has accepted my offer with the utmost
eagerness. It is arranged that we instant
ly proceed to St. Paul’s where the ceremo
ny will take place: from thence you start
fur England. My worthy friend, Mr. Mot
daunt, will meet you at Falmouth, I write
to him by this next packet, offering him so
handsome an income, that I have no doubt
whatever he will become your tutor, guide,
and companion, during your five years of
travel and study. At the expiration of that
time, you will return to your home and
friends—your bride, and father. I pray on
ly that I may not be snatched away before
that happy moment arrives; I shall then die
in peace!” The father and son embraced
with emotion. “ But—” said Alonzo, hesi
tatingly : “ but—the lady, sir ?” “ True—
the lady,” replied the Marquess; “why—
your lady is but a child at present —she has
not yet completed her thirteenth year, 3nd I
regret to say (the Marquess tried to look
grave,) her health is considered delicate:
however, in all that personally regards ha;
I confess I am rather deficient in informa
tion.”
Preparations were speed ily made for their
departare. Alonzo, who was an universal
favouiitc, took leave of all his young friends
with a heavy heart; they merely knew he
was going to St. Paul’s and from thence to
Europe; his intended marriage was a se
cret
His last visit was to his aunt, the Abbess.
“ May the saints protect you, son of my bro
ther!” cried the good lady; “ Alonzo, thou
art the last support and representative of
our ancient and noble house ; blessed be the
chance that brings it back to wealth and in
dependence ! But remember, Alonzo, thou
takest upon thee a duty most delicate and
most difficult towards the hand that bestows
these blessings. There is no good in this
world without its attendant evil: may thy
golden chains lie lightly on thee 1”
They embarked, and in a few days reach
ed St. Paul’s. They were met on board by
Senhor Josef, a little elderly man, shrewd
and active, with a long queue,Jcocked hat,
brown dress-coat, and a flowered waistcoat.
His joy and pride w ere almost too great for
words, and for once in his life natural feel
ing swept away his whole routine of com
pliment ; which is saying a great deal for
an old Poituguese.
The house of Senhor Josef was situated
in the centre of the town, and was not at all
distinguished from its neighbors, either in
its outside or inside appearance; comfort
had made less progress here than even at
Rio. A heavy, dull looking building, with
large white-washed rooms, a few of them
only matted : rows of old fashioned chairs
ranged round the wall, or projecting in two
stiff’ rows from the ends of a venerable look
ing sofa ; a couple of small tables, to match,
looked at each other from exactly opposite
sides, and were ornamented with artificial
flowers somewhat faded, in vases: a French
clock in a glass case, old massive silver can
dlesticks, with candles ready to light, deco
rated with wreaths of white cut paper; such
was the appearance of the grand sala of the
wealthiest man in Brazil.
They were met at the entrance by a little,
dark, fat, good humored Senhora, arrayed
in stiff flowered satin, whom Senhor Josef
introduced as his sister Theresa. She gave
Alonzo a hearty smack on each cheek, and
led him into the sala, where presently a
small table was brought in by two neatly
dressed black damsels, covered with cakes
and very fine fruit. While Alonzo was pay
ing his compliments to these delicacies, the
two fathers were talking apart: “ The ship
sails to-morrow,” said the Marquess : “ it is
very soon,” and he sighed; “ but, as you
observe we had better not lose the opportu
nity.”
“ Much better not,” replied Senhor Jo
sef : “ every thing is arranged: licence
from the bishop, the priest, and the witness
es ; all can be completed in ati hour from
this time.”
“ And your daughter ?”
“ Why, my lord, you know Isabella is but
a child and a sickly child ; she has been sad
ly spoiled and petted, and, in consequence
of her ill health and my numerous avoca
tions, her education has been somewhat
neglected, however, we must begin to make
up for lost time.”
“ Well, Senhor,” said the Marquess, with
a sort of effort, “ the sooner the business is
finished the belter.” Senhor Josef whis
pered to his sister, and they both left the
room. The Marquess then informed Alon
zo that the ceremony would take place in
stantly, and that to morrow he would leave
for Europe. The Marquess also thought it
prudent to prepare his son for the appear
ance of his hride, and after having repeated
what her father had stated, he continued ;
“ Promise me, Alonzo, to conceal as much
as possible any unfavorable emotion she
may excite: remember we have set our fate
upon this cast!”
“ We have indeed, sir!” said Alonzo
gravely; “ but the sacrifice is great.” By
this expression, Alonzo did not mean that
he or his rank was sacrificed, although his
more worldly father put this interpretation
on his words ; no—the natural integrity, and
yet unsullied freshness of his youthful feel
ings, told him that he was selling his honor
and independence, and what youth prizes
so much in perspective, free choice in his
wedded love.
They retired to their seperate half-fur
nished bedrooms to make some alteration in
their dress ; which was scarcely completed
when a request arrived that they would meet
Senhor Josef in his private room. Thither
they went, arid found him with a notary, a
priest, and two witnesses. A deed was
handed over to the Marquess to read, by
which a very handsome settlement was made
on his son ; the Marquess expressed his
gratitude, and Alonzo kissed the hand of his
new father; the deed was signed and seal
ed, and copies put in their possession. Sen
hor Josef’s will was next read, in which,
after providing for his sister, and bequeath
ing to her the only house he had, (their pre
sent residence,) the rest of his immense for-
MADISON, MORGAN COUNTY, GEORGIA, SATURDAY MORNING, FEBRUARY 18, 1843.
tune he settled exclusively on bis daughter.
He also expressed his intention to make all
fixed and sure by winding up his mercan
tile concerns before the return of Alonzo;
but no land would he purchase ; he was a
wore that a large hereditary estate in Port
ugal belonged by light to the Marquess,
which in all probability De would possess in
peace before he died.
These interesting arrangements being
completed, the party were requested to pro
ceed to their oratory, where the marriage
ceremony was to take place.
Both the father and the son felt sad mis
givings on the subject of the bride herself,
and it was with a throbbing heart that Alon
zo, especially, approached the oratory: his
father, yet apprehensive of the final events,
whispered emphatically, “ Senhor Josef has
performed his part nobly; eh, roy son ! for
my sake struggle to support yours.” Alon
zo pressed his father’s hand, but his heart
was too full to answer.
Although the day shone brightly through
the arched and smali-naned windows of the
oratory, it was, as usual in catholic chapels
on occasions of ceremony, lighted with a
great number of huge wax candles, which
produced a most disagreeable effect. Two
rows of slaves, male and female, were drawn
up on each side; the priest and witnesses
took their stations ; as did Alonzo and the
Marquess. Senhor Josef had gone for his
sister aud daughter.
A few painful minutes elapsed. At length
a scuffle was heard in the passage, and
“ Non quero ! non quero /” was shrieked
out by a weak hut shrill female voice. A
moment afterwards Senhor Josef appeared
with his sister, actually dragging in a thin,
dark, lanky form, that was making all the op
position it was capable of, by biting, scratch
ing, and screanrng. The father and aunt
were assisted by four young mulatto fe
males, whose disordered white dress, and
floweis falling from their heads, showed but
too clearly in what desperate service they
had been engaged. The girl herself was
dressed in thickly-worked Indian muslin,
trimmed with rich lace, but which accord
ing to the Portuguese tase, was nearly as
yellow as her own complexion : in her ears
and round her neck were clumsily set dia
monds of great value ; her hair they had at
tempted to dress in vain, and it fell over her
shoulders, long, straight, and black. Anger
and mortification were deeply impressed on
the countenance of her father and aunt: and
all present looked dismayed. But pror
Alonzo! his blood ran cold; he actually
sickened—and nothing but the imploring
look of his father prevented him rushing
from the oratory. When fairly placed in
the centre of the circle the girl shook her
self free, and threw back her disordered
hair; she was pauling with rage and exer
tion evidently beyond her strength; she
glanced first on the Marquess, and then
turned her eyes steadily on Alonzo. Every
one was wondering, what would happen
next; when to their surprise and relief, af
ter a look and childish stare, she stepped up
quietly and placed herself beside him. The
priest, who knew her well, lost not the fa
vorable moment, ami instantly commenced
the service. She went through it with per
fect composure, every now and then turning
round to look at her companion. Once did
Alonzo raise: his eyes to meet hers, —lint his
fell, as if avoiding the gaze of a basilisk : he
visibly shrunk as he touched her cold and
skinny hand—in short he could not conceal
the agony he suffered. Nevertheless, the
ceremony came to its conclusion, and with
a sort of convulsive effort he turned to sa
lute his bride. But she had already reach
ed the door, (no one thought proper to pre
vent her,) —there she stopped, and once
again fixed her very large, black, and fear
fully brilliant eyes upon Alonzo: their ex
pression was changed, it was no longer the
same as at the altar; but what that expres
sion was, Alonzo, though haunted by it for
years after, could never make out.
The party left the oratory. The Mar
quess was the first to recover his composure,
and conversed freely on indifferent topics
until dinner was announced. Senhora The
resa made an apology for her neice, who,
she said, was too unwell to join them. They
sat down to a repast more abundant than el
egant ; and the gloom quickly disappeared
from every countenance but one.
In the evening, the fathers had a long
conference over their coffee: and Alonzo,
availing himself of the excuse his intended
early embarkation provided, retired for the
night to his chamber.
After a light and hurried breakfast on the
following morning, he prepared to depart.
The Senhora expressed her deep regret that
Isabella was not sufficiently recovered, after
the agitating scene of the preceeding day,
to take leave of him personally; but—and
the good Senhora was proceeding with a
string of apologies, when Alonzo impatient
ly interrupted hei by placing in her hand a
morocco case containing a set of pink topaz
of the latest London fashion, which he had
brought from Rio as a present for bis bride.
He mumbled something about the Senhora
presenting it ir. his name, as it appeared he
could not have the honor of offering it him
self. Away went the aunt with her prize,
and returned in a few minutes with a ring
containing one deep-yellow diamond of val
ue enough to purchase a dozen of his pink
topaz sets, and this was given with many
fine speeches from his biide, made up by
the Senhora with the felicity of her sex on
such occasions.
After receiving the blessings of his new
relatives, he went on board accompanied by
the Marquess, who look leave of him with
the greatest affection; giving him of course
much wise counsel, mixed with the heartiest
congratulations on his good fortune: but
not one word was breathed by either con
cerning her who was at once the maker and
marrer of all—the rivet to those golden links,
without which, indeed, they would have lain
lightly enough. The Marquess was a man
of much tact; he felt that any thing he could
say on this delicate subject must be wrong.
A few weeks brought Alonzo to Falmouth,
where he was met by Mr. Mordaunt, his tu
tor. They proceeded together to the Con
tinent, where it was arranged they should
spend three years in travel and study ; the
two remaining years were to be devoted en
tirely to England.
Mr. Mordaunt was admirably calculated
for the office assigned to him, and soon be
came affectionately attached to his pupil.
Three delightful years flew rapidly by.
The most interesting spots in France, Ger
many, and sacred Italy were visited. The
study of the best authors in each language :
that of the history, government, manufac
tures, and works of art, of each country ; to
gether with the acquaintance of the most
eminent men—all contributed to exalt and
enrich the highly gifted mind of Alonzo, and
to fill his heart with the noblest sentiments
of benevolence and patriotism. During this
time he might have been pronounced among
the happiest of mortals—but in his overflow
ing cup one black and Bitter drop was min
gled.
Mr. Mordaunt had been made aware of
Alonzo’s marriage, and of all the circum
stances attending it, by the Maiquess. In
the first letter Alonzo received from his
aunt, the Abbess, were these words : “ The
only chance you have of domestic peace,
(happiness is perhaps out of the question,)
in your peculiar circumstances, is lo guard
your heart with the most vigilant care: if
once that treasure pass into the possession
another, guilt and misery will attend you
through life. I repeat to you again and a
gain, guard your heart /” This letter was
handed to his tutor, who, poiutiiig to the hist
sentence, said emphatically, “ Jet that be
your watchword.”
During his residence on the Continent,
his time and attention were too much occu
pied, his change of residence too frequent,
to allow of his affections being at any time
in danger. And, beside the observing eye
of Mr. Mordaunt, and the watchword of the
reverend Abbess, it must be noticed that the
young Don was not of that highly inflamma
ble nature, which the sparkle of an eye, the
smile of a rosy lip, or the touch of a delicate
haud, could ignite in an instant. But Mr.
Mordaunt perfectly agreed with the Abbess
in opinion that if ever h e loved, it would be
deeply, passionately, and therefore to him
—fatally.
At the appointed time they arrived in
England: and a year end a half had been
passed, with the highest advantage and im
provement, in traveling through that extra
ordinary country, and in visiting Scotland.
The last six months they were to spend in
London : and, alas ! the dreadful evil, from
a quarter so little suspected that even Mr.
Mordaunt appeared to he thrown off his
guard, approached ; and the God of love
was, as a poet would say, amply avenged
for the sacrilege that had been perpetrated
in performing the sacred bands of Hymen.
Alonzo was at the opera with his friend
the Brazilian Charge d’ Affaires. He
thought, as he looked round, that he had
never been in any public place of amuse
ment where the sex showed to so much ad
vantage as at the English Opera; the ab
sence of crowd, the light not too glaring, the
superb dresses, contributed, he supposed, to
produce this effect. He observed the Charge
attentively viewing through his glass some
person in an opposite box, aud he fancied
many other glasses were pointed in the
same direction : he looked also, and his eye
immediately rested on one of the most beau
tiful young women he thought he had ever
seen; there was that peculiar something,
however, in her complexion, style, and dress,
which marked her as a foreigner. “ Who
is that 1” said he to the Charge; “ she looks
French or Spanish.”
“ Neither,” said the Charge, exultingly,
“she is one of us—Brazilian 1”
“Indeed!” exclaimed Alonzo, in an ac
cent of suprise and pleasure.
“ Have you not heard of her V’ asked his
friend : “ she is called the beautiful Brazil
ian, and is the novelty of the season, making
sad havoc in the hearts of her English ad
mirers. She has come out under the aus
pices of the Countess of Godolphin, the la
dy next her.”
“ What is her name ?”
“Donna Viola de Montezuma.”
“ The name is noble,” observed Alonzo,
“ but I do not recollect it at at Rio.”
“ Her family is settled in the north of Bra
zil: she herself, however, has just come
from Rio, with her duenna and suite, to fin
ish her education. She is ari heiress, and is
reported to be engaged in Portugal. Would
you like to go round 1 I will introduce you.”
“ If you pleaseand away they went.
The Charge first introduced Alonzo to
the Countess and then presented him as a
fellow-countryman to the beautiful Brazil
ian. She received him with the most mark-
I ed pleasure, and made a seat for him beside
her.
“ I am indeed most happy to become ac
quainted with you, Don Alonzo,” said she,
“ if it were only to express lo you the affec
tion I feel for your clear aunt the Abbess, in
whose convent I have been some time a res
ident, and from whom I hare received all
the care and love of a mother —indeed, I
owe her very much.”
“ Her love and care at least seemed to
have been well bestowed,” replied Alonzo :
“ did you also know may father I”
“ Intimately ; and I may also venture to
say that I know you, so much have 1 heard
of you from the Marquess and your aunt; I
am sure no son or nephew was ever more
beloved.”
Alonzo sighed as he recollected that nei
ther of them had mentioned this lady in their
letters; the reason was obvious—aud he
felt a pang more acute than usual when he
looked on her lovely and intelligent coun
tenance —glanced over a figure that appear
ed to him perfection, and listened to her live
ly and natural remarks—then compared her
with that one of whom he could scarcely en
dure in any w ay to think.
The next morning, he mentioned to Mr.
Mordaunt, as carelessly as he could, liis in
troduction ot the preceding evening.
“ 1 have heard of that lady,” observed Mr.
Mordaunt. “ She is a good specimen of
your country-women —does great credit to
Brazil, and would make, I dare say, an ex
cellent English marriage, if she were not al
ready engaged.”
“ She is really then engaged 1” inquired
Alonzo.
“ Decidedly—to a Portuguese nobleman:
this has been published as much as possible
to keep lovers at a distance.”
“ Well,” thought Alonzo, “ as she is en
gaged, and I mariied, there can be no dan
ger :” and that very evening (for the lady,
he understood, was not permitted to receive
morning visiters,) beheld him at the Coun
tess’s.
An intimacy soon sprung up between
them, as was natural bet ween persons of the
same age and station, in a foieigu country.
There was no one that Viola was, orappear
ed, half so pleased to see as Don Alonzo.
She had always anew song to sing to him,
anew drawing to show to him, or anew
book to recommend. She was fondofehess,
and many a happy moment did he spend
while the Countess was engaged at her
whist. But never in bis eyes was she so
fascinating as when, passing the black rib
bon of her guitar over her shoulder, she ac
companied herselfin their own beautiful na
tional melodies; her voice was exquisitely
sweet and clear; the execution finished aud
graceful. At those moments an exclusive
affinity appeared to exist between them ; al
though there might be, and often were, nu
merous other listeners and admirers, it was
his eye only that she sought for approval.
They met frequently at public places, and
also at other houses. Viola was a beautiful
dancer, and he felt proud (he knew not why
for it was nothing to him,) of the admiration
she excited. Sometimes he waltzed with
her, and with a beating heart caught here
and there a halfvvhispei from the spectators
—“The two Brazilians—an interesting cou
ple, are they not ?”
It was thought better that Viola, on ac
count of her peculiar situation, should con
tinue to observe, although in England, the
strict form of her own national manners.—
Immediately after dancing she leturned to
the side of the Countess or her clisperone;
she never went out for exercise except
when so accompanied, and she never receiv
ed any visiter except in such presence.—
These ariangemetits gave great satisfaction
to Alonzo, (he did not know why, for it was
rothing to him,) although he frequently suf
fered by them.
“ Guard your heart V’ conscience whis-
I pered to Alonzo. Alas! his heuit had es-
I taped—but he guarded his manners, and
they were the next best security : he tried
to watch even bis very eyes: he never flirt
ed, he never complimented ;in fact,he suc
ceeded so well, that the Countess and Mr.
Mordaunt appeared to have up suspicion;
but he could not deceive hirmelf, and he
was not quite sure that he deceived Viola.
Time glided by unheeded : the London
season was near its close, when, one morn
ing at breakfast, Mr. Mordaunt observed,
“ Well, Alonzo, time gets on, we are now
in July, and before the end ot October you
must be safely landed at Rio. We must
secure your passage in the next month’s
packet.”
All this was well known and fully expect
ed, yet did the intimation astound Alonzo.
“ So soon ! can it lie possible !”
The same evening they were en famille
at the Countess’s; the whist and chess ta
bles were arranged as usual. “ What ate
you thinking of, Don Alonzo, to mcke such
a move as that V’ inquired Viola : “ you are
a little absent —out of spirits this evening.”
“ I ought not to be so,” said Alonzo, try
ing to rally, “ for we have been busy all day
planning and arranging about our voyage
home.”
“ Indeed !” said Viola. Alonzo thought
she sighed : certainly she in her turn made
a false move. Soon after, a servant euter
ed with a case of jewels belonging to Viola,
w hich had returned from being repaired ;
while lookiug at them Alonzo observed,
that she was not a little envied by the Lon
don belles for the splendor ot her jewels.
WM. TANARUS, THOMPSON, EDITOR.
“ How comes it,” said she, “ that I nev
er see you wear any ornaments, not even a
ring 1 Our young Brazilian beaux are nat
urally so fond of these decorations.
“ I assure you,” said Mr. Mordaunt, look
ing off bis cards, “ Don Alonzo has one of
the most superb rings I ever saw—a single
yellow diamond of great value.”
Alonzo felt irritated, he scarcely knew
why, and replied in a bitter sarcastic tone,
quite unusual with him—“ Yes, I have a
yellow diamond, indeed, that I never wish
to see, or to show to any one else.”
The words were scarcely out of his mouth
before he felt their impropriety. “ Draw
your card, my lady, if you please,” said M,r.
Mordaunt.
“ Check,” cried Alonzo, and with an ef
fort looked at Viola. She was leaning on
her band ; and her large, black, and brilliant
eyes, with their long up-turned lashes were
fixed on his. lie started at the look—why
or wherefore lie could not imagine. The
eyes were wiihdiawn, and the game con
tinued.
A few evenings after, he was leading her
from a dance to place her as usual by the
side of the Countess; they bad to traverse
three or four crowded rooms before they
could reach the one where her lady-ship was
seated at whist; they moved very slowly
and loiteiingly along, seemingly in no great
hurry to arrive at their destination.
“ Are you really going to leave us next
month, Don Alonzo 1”
“ Really—and VeaDonnaViola, what be
comes of you 1”
“ I go to Portugal.”
“ And there?” said Alonzo in an inquiring
tone.
“0, there ue shall not remain long; our
Brazilian property will tequire our pres
ence.”
“ Then we shall meet again,” said Alon
zo eagerly.
“ I hope so— I dare say, in a few months.”
“ Well, that is some comfort!” and he
seemed to respire more freely; then after a
pause—“ but 1 shall never again meet Vio
la /”
“ But Viola, Don Alonzo,” she replied
fiimly, “ will meet you as she has always
met you ; what she has been, she will con
tinue to be—your sincere and affectionate
friend.”
“ Thank you, Viola, thank you !- but
pray do not speak another word to me just
now.” He placed her in her 6eat, and with
out looking at her, turned away and left the
house.
Mr. MorJauut bad accepted the pressing
invitation of Alonzo to accompany him to
Brazil: ihcir passage was taken and their
preparations well forward. Alonzo paid
his farewell visits, mid did all that was ne
cessary on the occasion, with the most per
fect composuie
A passage was also taken for Viola and
her suite in the Lisbon Packet, and the day
w as fixed for her leaving town for Falmouth.
The day following was decided on by Alon
zo for the same purpose, but this he man
aged to conceal from her.
The morning before her departure, he
called on the Countess. “ You are come to
take leave of Donna Viola,” said her lady
ship.
“ No, I am not, I come to take leave of
you, (for 1 also am on the eve of quitting
Loudon,) and to thank you for all your kiud
attention.”
“ But why r.ot of’Viola 1” said the Count
ess ; “ she will he so disappointed.”
“ It is better 1 should not.”
“ But what am I to say to her 1” inquired
she.
“ Precisely what I have just said— that it
is better I should not.”
The Countess returned no reply; aud
with all good wishes on each aide, they
parted.
The weather was beautiful, and Mr. Mor
daunt appeared to enjoy his journey exceed
ingly ; but Alonzo was absorbed in thought
and it was only now aud then, when Mr.
Movdaunt touched upon his approaching
meeting with his father and his old Rio
friends, that Alonzo could be roused for a
moment. At the inns too he occasionally
heard something that attracted his silent at
tention, of the beautiful young foreigner
who had passed the day before.
They arrived at Falmouth in the morning
to breakfast. With a beating heart, Alon
zo inquired concerning the foreign lady and
the Lisbon Packet: the lady had gone on
board the evening before, and the Lisbon
and Rio packets were to sail on the follow
ing morning.
After breakfast, the two gentlemen were
engaged superintending the embarkation of
their servants and baggage, and having ta
ken au early dinner, went on board.
It was a lovely evening. Alonzo glano
ed at the merry and busy town of Falmouth,
the numerous vessels, and the broad Allan
tic, which lay stretched out before him :
then his eye fixed, as though there were
nothing else worth looking at, on the small
vessel that lay nearest to him. He sudden
ly lefl his station, descended into a boat, and
was in a few minutes on board.
In the outer cabin he met the duenna,
who looked very much surprised at seeing
him ; but without speaking, threw open the
door of the after cabin; lie entered, and the
door closed behind him,
Viola lay on a concb, apparently absorb
ed in reading: the noise-startled her, and
she looked up; but nothing can express the